Case of Necessity
by owlcroft
Summary: A new case for Judge Hardcastle and Mark picks the right moment.


Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit, etc.

Tribute is due to Cheri for the idea; thanks and keep 'em coming!

A CASE OF NECESSITY

by

Owlcroft

Mark McCormick breezed into the main house with the dry cleaning and shouted for the judge.

"Hardcastle! Hey, Hardcase! Where are ya?"

A muted yell came from the stairs to the basement. "Down here!"

McCormick draped the plastic-sheeted clothes over the stair railing and headed for the basement steps, carrying a pair of handcuffs and a small gift-wrapped package.

"That was quick," said Judge Hardcastle. He put down the file folder he'd been looking through and picked up another one. "I can't find what I'm looking for. You seen the Altobelli file anywhere?"

"No. And I've got a surprise for you." Mark produced the handcuffs and said gleefully, "It's final exam time!"

Hardcastle groaned. "Not now, McCormick. I can't find the Altobelli file and I got a million things to do--"

"Now, Judge," Mark was handcuffing himself behind his back. "You agreed it would be when and where I said. That's the only way to make it a real test. Now," he stood at attention, "you say 'Go' and time me."

The judge sighed in resignation and looked at his watch. "Go."

McCormick had his lock pick case out of his back pocket and open in less than ten seconds. It took twelve more to have the correct pick out and opening the first cuff. Eleven seconds later, both handcuffs were off and McCormick said, "Time!"

"Okay, I'm gonna call that thirty-two seconds. You know I can't do it that fast." Hardcastle didn't exactly whine, but it was a near miss.

"No, and I don't expect you to. I'm going to give you a handicap of . . . oh, let's make it twenty-eight seconds." Mark was handcuffing the judge now. "So, if you can get out of these -- both of them, now-- in a minute, you get an 'A' on the exam, _and _I'll pay for repainting the scratch on the 'Vette."

"Scratch on the 'Vette!" Hardcastle struggled with the handcuffs, and glared at McCormick furiously. "What scratch on the 'Vette? How bad is it? Get these things off me!"

"Now, Judge," said Mark soothingly, "To be a real test, you have be able to control yourself, to focus on the picks and let everything else go. If you're ever cuffed by a bad guy, you won't be a good mood then, either, so this is the perfect situation."

He reached around to put his re-zipped lock pick case in Hardcastle's back pocket, then leaned against the left-most file cabinet. Pulling back his sleeve to expose his watch, he said, "You tell me when to start timing. And I'll make you a deal. For every second you come in under a minute, I'll pay ten dollars toward the 'Vette repair. How's that?"

Hardcastle was fuming. "When I get outta these, McCormick, I swear--"

"I'm gonna start timing you, Judge, get ready."

The judge made an obvious effort to calm himself, shot McCormick a dirty look, took a deep breath, and said, "Go."

Mark watched him struggle just a bit to get the pick case out and open and told him, "Twelve seconds."

Hardcastle found the right pick and had it out of the case and in the lock when McCormick updated the time. "Twenty-four seconds."

The judge had his tongue between his teeth now and his eyes tightly shut in concentration. The first lock clicked and the cuff fell off his wrist.

"Forty-one seconds."

With the second cuff in front of him, Hardcastle opened his eyes and had it open and off much quicker and shouted "Done!"

Mark grinned at him and said, "Fifty-five seconds."

"Hah!" Hardcastle was jubilant. "You owe me fifty bucks, kiddo!"

"Actually, I don't." McCormick reached behind him for the little gift-wrapped package. "There's no scratch on the 'Vette. I just wanted to give you an incentive."

"You . . . " the judge was torn between irritation and joy. "There's . . . "

"You always did have a way with words, Kemo Sabe. Here." Mark handed him the package. "A graduation gift."

"Aw, come on." Hardcastle took the package reluctantly. "You didn't have to get me anything." He peeled off the wrapping paper to disclose a small leather case with MCH engraved on it in gold. His jaw dropped and he looked at Mark in surmise.

"So you don't have to borrow mine any more." McCormick's smile was smug but affectionate. "Now, you need to learn how to crack a safe."


End file.
